


It's Yours Forever

by scbistg



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Bang Chan & Kim Woojin are Best Friends, Bang Chan and blind dates, Bang Chan taking stray cats, Dancer Lee Minho | Lee Know, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, M/M, Separations, Soonie & Doongie, Teacher Bang Chan, Waiter Lee Minho | Lee Know, friendly Minho being helpful, that aren't actually strays
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-27 05:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17760680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scbistg/pseuds/scbistg
Summary: “And you’re... not?”“Not what?”“Getting into her bed?”“Of course not.” Chan answers, appalled.“Why not?” Minho asks, looking even more confused.“Because i want to like her, Minho. I want to … i don’t know, hold her hand and listen to her stories, enjoy our date together and see her again if things went well. Those kind of things… i want to--”“You want to fall in love.” Minho says slowly, face breaking into a smile before he turns to Doongie and tells him,Doongie-yah Chan hyung is just too cute, isn’t he?orwhere Chan keep going on blind dates his mother sets him up to, his new neighbor Minho keep helping him for these dates. Until one day Chan realises that he maybe possibly want to date Minho instead. Featuring Soonie and Doongie, Woojin the bestfriend, blind dates, and iced americano.





	1. If you feed it

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :) This was actually supposed to be long oneshot, but i kind of word vomit and now i feel it's too much words and so i'm breaking it into chapters. They're all aged up here but the age gap between them remains the same. Please check the rating. Unbeta'ed, as usual lol

 

 

 

At first it was a thump. Not even loud enough to be a knock, more like a scratch really, of something soft that pads against Chan’s living room window. 

“Hello?” Chan says to noone in particular. Could be a bat, his logic tells him. It’s well past midnight and it had happened before, some clueless bat flying straight onto his window. But there’s also that one time when Woojin locked himself out of his own flat and had gone down the fire escape, tapping on Chan’s window to get the spare key that he help kept.

It didn’t occur to Chan that Woojin already moved out of his flat about a week ago (something about volunteering in a humanity work somewhere in africa where he joins in to build water system in one of the village there, impressive really, and Chan told him so as he helped put in the last suitcase into the taxi waiting to take Woojin to the airport)  until he opens the window and pushes his head out, getting the cool midnight breeze blowing against his face. 

There’s noone, of course, Chan doesn’t know anyone sane and sober who would willingly stay out in a rickety fire escape at dead hours at night in the middle of autumn. But when Chan tilts his head up he’s met with a pair of glowing eyes looking back at him. 

His mind, a treacherous entity of its own, quickly releases all past memories of every horror movies he’s ever watched and although he’s not really that creeped out he was ready to shut the window, pull the shutters down and go back to grading his student’s assignments when the pair of glowing eyes does the unpredictable, it meows. 

“Oh? ...hello there,” Chan angles his head to get a better view. Now that his eyes adjusted to the lack of lighting, Chan can see an orange tabby, curling into itself in one of the metal steps of the fire escape. “What are you doing out here? It’s really cold, aren’t you cold, kitty?” 

The cat blinks lazily. 

“I guess not.” Chan tries to look above, up to Woojin’s vacant flat that’s apparently not so vacant anymore. There’s light streaming out the opened window. Huh, when did that happened? Chan thinks to himself. Then he remembers all the scuffing noises he’s been hearing these past few days coming from his ceiling. The building is old, with thin walls and poor insulation and rickety fire escapes but its location is nicely near the highschool Chan is currently working as an english teacher, with rent price that doesn’t burn a hole in his pocket.

“You’re new huh? never seen you here before.” Chan tilts his head back to the cat, now seemingly more preoccupied in watching the way the traffic light right by their building turns green than paying Chan any mind. They’re in the older part of the city so traffic pretty much doesn’t exist at these hours. “You should probably should go back inside, kitty. It’ll get colder, don’t think your owner would like seeing you outside like this.” 

Chan shivers as a gust of wind breezes pass them. He hesitates for a moment, thinking if he should try bring the cat inside but it doesn’t seem to mind the cold. Also, it can always go back inside its own flat where the window is still opened wide. With this last thought Chan ducks his head back into the warmth of his living room and closes the window. 

The thing with cats is, they may look lazy, but when they actually want to, they can move at the speed of light. They flit and they jump and--... and well, that’s how Chan ends up with an orange tabby lazing on his couch in his warm livingroom at midnight. 

He occasionally throw disapproving glances at it over the thick frame of his grandpa glasses, one hand gripping the pen which he uses to grade while the other holding the assignments papers. 

It stares right back at him, unfazed, looking bored as it swishes its tail. It reminds Chan of the look on his students’ faces in a particularly long day of teaching, which is quite amusing when he thinks about it.

The window is still open, Chan hoping the cat would excuse itself out but judging from the way it’s currently stretching its paws on his couch, looking very comfortable as it does so, the cat doesn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.

He could just bring it up to its owner, he thinks again. But is the new occupant of Woojin’s flat really owns the cat? come to think of it, the tabby doesn’t have a collar on. Would be very improper ringing someone’s doorbell at half past midnight to present them with a cat that doesn’t belong to them. 

What if it’s a stray? Chan’s heart softens at this, but looking at how healthy it’s looking and how silky its fur is, the tabby must’ve belonged to someone.

At two a.m Chan gives up, he has to wake up in four hours for work so if the kitty want to stay, he’ll let it stay. He’s keeping the window open in case the furrball  has a change of heart and decide to go home, or just go out of Chan’s living room, he’s not that picky. He’s also not stupid, the crime rate is really low in this part of the city, people could leave their bag out in the open and no one would touch it, but to play it safe Chan closes his bedroom door and locks it anyway. So if somehow by chance a serial killer happens to pay him a visit, he’d at least have a few minutes it takes to open the door to call for help. 

He hears the scuffing noises again, padded footsteps, when he’s tucked into his bed. This time, because it’s really quiet and Chan is actually paying attention, he also catches some squeaky sound, the kind he hears in a basketball court during a game, only softer, dampened. 

It doesn’t bother him, on the contrary it puts him at ease, that he’s not the only one awake, that there’s also someone else still going around with whatever they’re doing, unpacking most probably, Chan thinks. Although the more he listens, the more he finds a rhythm in the gaps between the noises, as if the person is moving to a silent beat Chan unable to hear. Like a dance or some sort.

It’s comforting to listen to, how it’s paced, how it fills the quiet surrounding him nicely. How it makes him feel less alone.

 

~ 

 

Chan is not lonely. 

He’s twenty six, he’s living alone and yes he is single at the moment but Chan has friends, colleagues, acquaintances. He can go out whenever he want  and text a friend for company, or he can stay in and invite people over and he knows he won't get rejected. His phone is filled with text messages from various chat groups he’s a part of. He can go bar hopping if he chooses to (although the appeal to do so has dissipate noticeably these past years, nursing a hangover stopped being an edgy pain and more of just--, well, straight up pain as he add years to his age) but these days Chan enjoys staying home. He doesn’t really need anyone to make him happy, he’s old enough to know he can make himself happy. Really, he’s not lonely, and he doesn’t need a girlfriend. But try telling his mother that. 

“Oh shush.. everyone need someone. Just give it a try.” She once tells him when Chan tries to wriggle free from one of the blind dates she manages to set him up with. 

Whatever objections Chan had was brushed aside, and he has learned since then to accept his fate as his mother gives him the details of the mystery girl this time around.

It’s always someone’s daughter or niece she knows, and his mother knows a lot of people apparently, Chan has been going on these dates for… forever it seems. They’re all nice, polite, well-educated, and Chan appreciates his mother’s effort, really he does, so he made sure that he’s also nice and polite and well-educated-ly too to all of his dates. 

His acquaintances list grows, because more often than not they parted on good terms, he may even add one or two names into his friends list when he finds someone with the same interest or humor, but still, no love interest in sight.

“Chris, honey. If you could just tell mommy what it is you're looking for in a girl…” 

“Maybe i’m not really looking, mom. I’m fine being single.”

“Maybe you should start looking then, young man. Can’t you understand a mother’s heart? Mom is not fine with you staying single, thinking about you coming home after a long day and no one is waiting for you in your flat. Speaking of flat when are you going to find a better one? i don’t understand why you insist on living there when you can afford better places. Mom has realtor friends that can help, i’ll let them know that we’re thinking about looking for apartments.”

Chan loves his mother. He really does. So he smile and he hugs her and he pecks her cheek lovingly.

“Mom, i’m fine. The flat is fine. If there’s no one waiting for me coming home then… then.. i’ll get a cat or something.”

In retrospect it feels pretty funny now, as a whole day of teaching and staying back at school ended and he can finally  _ finally _ get home and rest, walking into his flat unassumingly, flicking his lights on the way he does everyday, when lo and behold, a cat is really waiting for him there.

Its ears perks up in interest when he walks in, lights turned on now, and it meows at him from where it’s perching on his couch. It took a liking there from last time it seems. His window is half open as he forgot to close it this morning when he was getting ready. 

“Oh… hey, you’re here again. “ Chan toes his shoes off and drop his messenger bag on the floor. Slinky little thing, more orange parts than whites on its body, it stares at Chan like it’s the owner of the flat and Chan is the one trespassing without permit. 

“Are you hungry?” Chan asks, going to the kitchen with his takeout dinner inside a paper bag. He unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves to his elbow. “Aren’t you bored lazing around here the whole day all by yourself?” He turns the tap on and washes his hands, cutting a generous part from his fish dinner before finding a small plate to feed the cat with. “Should i call you something? do you have a name?” 

It doesn’t let Chan touches it, jumps off the couch it’s resting on to hide under the huge book shelf he got from a garage sale the second Chan gets too close. Chan can respect that. But it does poke its head out  and approaches him when he placed the plate on the floor.

An idea enters his head and Chan laughs a little at it, amused by himself for having such a great idea. He’s so funny and he cracks himself up sometimes. He’s still smiling when he kneels down and takes a picture of the cat. And then he texts his mother.

_ Mum, there’s someone i want you to meet! She’s been coming over a few times and we’re having dinner right now. Today she even waited for me when i came home.  _

The reply is quick, his mother’s delight response and request for a picture. At that, Chan sends the cat’s photo he had just taken, and along with it he writes, 

_ Mum, i want you to meet my babygirl.  _

He gets a direct phone call from his mother after that. 

At the end she laughs with him, but not before sharing him all the things he need to know about the next girl for his blind date. 

 

~

  
The thing about the cat not wanting Chan to touch her? yeah forget about that, now she won’t let him  _ not _ touching her. 

_ Babygirl,  _ the name kind of stuck after that one time he pranked his mom, meows in apparent irritation when Chan stops petting her. She butts her head against his arm  stubbornly when Chan lets her go to pick up another paper he’s grading.

“Eyy... so impatient.” He mutters adoringly, letting Babygirl purrs in content when his fingers goes back to scratch the side of her head. 

It seems Chan is adopting not just one, but two, that’s two (2) cats, because one evening Babygirl comes in with a friend, another tabby, this time with more whites than orange stripes and Chan decides on the spot that it shall be named Groot. 

They’re his strays, he gets to name them anyway he want. 

 

~

  
Being an old building as it is, the elevators sometimes doesn’t work. But two out of three it does, so suppose it’s not that bad despite whatever his mum says. Today is the day when it doesn’t work though and Chan finds himself having to climb three stories to his floor with a handful of grocery bags while hugging the huge 40-lb bag of dry cat food he bought. 

In his defense, he got the cat food on a rare 30% discount, so it’s not like he overspend his budget. The catnip cat toys however (with durable high quality fabric filed with 100% organic high potent catnips!) are pricier than he would’ve liked. But the thought of Babygirl and Groot playing happily with them makes it easier for Chan to cashed out those wons. 

_ Careful now _ , he can still hear Woojin’s voice through the static of long distance call,   _ if you feed it, it’s yours forever.  _

Chan still doesn’t know if they’re actually strays, but the thought of keeping them forever is not unappealing at all. He likes their company, begrudgingly so sometimes when he finds some of his furniture having scratch marks on them. But his mother was right, it is nice to have someone to come home to, even if they are cats. That’s why he’s planning to take them to the vet this weekend to get them checked, see if they need some shots, but most importantly if they have some kind of chip implanted, which will tell Chan about their owner, assuming they have one.

Halfway up he’s met with a young man climbing the stairs like himself, only in a slower, seemingly much agonising manner, judging from the shaky breaths coming from him after every staircases or so. He keeps himself far from the railing, like he’s afraid he’d fall over the ledge if he’s not glued close to the walls, his hands shoved deep into the pocket his jeans, with head hanging low. 

When Chan is near enough, it’s clear that the person is having a hard time what with his eyes all scrunched up and breathing labored through his mouth. 

“Excuse me, are you alright?” Chan peers at him when he’s at his side. 

Which causes the man to jump, which causes Chan to take a step back, the grocery bags slipping from his fingers and onto the floor.

“Oh i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to startle you.” The person quickly apologises, voice softer than Chan had expected.

“No no.. i’m the one who should be sorry, i didn't mean to startle  _ you _ .” Chan watches as the guy crouches down instantly to pick Chan’s bags up from the floor.

The person looks up and the first thing Chan registers is  _ wow… he’s pretty. _ A second later the person smiles up to him and the second thought that comes to Chan is that  _ wow _ ,  _ he’s even prettier smiling.  _

  
  


“You have a cat, hyung?” Minho asks Chan, eyeing the humongous bag of dry cat food in his arms. Minho is still holding the grocery bags he picked up earlier, insisting to help carry them even though Chan already told him he could manage. 

“They’re… not mine, not really. They just visit often and when they do i’d like to make sure that they’re--, yes those are catnip toys, “ Chan explains as Minho’s attention catches on the obnoxiously colorful thing. Minho grins at this and oh my, Chan wonders if he will ever get used on seeing someone as pretty as Minho.

“You also feed them ?” 

“Ah yeah, as i said, i don’t know if they’re strays? but when they come to visit the least i can do is to make sure they’re not starving when they’re out there.” Chan thinks Minho’s gaze softens as he says these.

“Well, you know what they say about feeding strays.” 

“If you feed it, then it’s yours forever?”

Minho nods, “ _ Forever _ .  No taking back. Non refundable.” Minho stares at him in all seriousness, but a beat later he’s laughing, high pitched and… rather strange sounding honestly, Chan doesn’t think he’s ever heard a laughter quite like Minho’s before. But it is contagious, and he finds himself laughing along with Minho easily.

And that’s the thing about Minho, everything feels so easy, he slinks right through the too polite introduction and hesitation and talks to Chan like they’re old friends, with familiarity of years long history together even though Chan barely knows him for … fifteen minutes? It’s uncommon, but not unwelcome. Chan enjoys the comfortable chat, the distinct laughter. Which is good because Minho is laughing again. They’re at his doorstep and Minho almost bowls over with how hard he’s laughing the minute Chan shows him his strays, Babygirl and Groot.

Minho confirms as he wipes his laughing tears that Chan’s suspicion is right all along, that the cats aren’t strays. They’re actually his. 

Soonie and Doongie respectively, 

_ “Soongie and Doongie?”  _

_ “Not Soongie, Soonie.”  _

Also they are actually males. 

_ “They got balls, hyung. How could you missed it? They’re right there.”  _

Which cues another round of laughter from Minho, looking amused to no end as he slaps his thigh and wheezes around a laugh in Chan’s living room.

“I’m so sorry, hyung. “ Minho says over a glass of warm tea Chan made them, the corner of his lips still curling around a smile. Chan isn’t sure whether Minho is sorry for laughing at him so much, or because Chan mistook his cats as strays. “I’ve been trying to get them to wear collars, but they hated it, Soonie especially.  They’re microchipped though.”

“I knew they were too well groomed to be strays. “ Chan mutters into his tea.

“I do take care of them. It’s just that they’re used on playing outside back in my mother’s house, so i guess that’s why they like to go out the fire escape. It’s like they know i couldn’t get them there. Such naughty boys.” Minho glares at the two troublemakers, but his voice is sweet, adoring, and his glare carries a prominent sense of affection.

Chan is reminded on the way Minho stayed close to the walls, looking distraught as he climbed the stairs.“Are you...  is by any chance you’re… afraid of heights?”

“I’m not afraid of it, no.” Minho denies firmly, “I just hate how it makes me crave for my imminent demise everytime i get too high up.” he pouts.

It’s unsettling how Chan finds it cute. 

Unsettling, but again like all things Minho, it’s not unwelcome. 

At the end of Minho’s stay he tells Chan that he’s grateful to know that Chan has been helping in taking care of his  _ little brothes _ . He works as a waiter and has been especially busy this month because a coworker is on a maternity leave and they haven't found a replacement for her. So his working shifts has been kind of hectic at the moment. Sure he kept them fed and all but he hasn’t had the time to play with them like he used to.

Chan also finds the confirmation that yes, Minho is the person who moved into Woojin’s place as the latter will be gone for more than half a year because of the volunteering. He doesn’t get to ask Minho about the scuffing and squeaky sounds though, but figures there’ll be time to ask about that later. Chan has a feeling he’ll be seeing more of Minho in the future. 

 

~

 

He’s right, Minho stops by more often than not if only just to pick up his cats once he got off work, especially on days when the elevator’s acting out. Woojin’s flat is on the fourth floor and Chan suspects Minho is using his place as a buffer of sorts, a safe place to take a breather before he has to trudge up the stairs again. He doesn’t mention it to Minho, happy that he can help, even if it’s just a little thing.  

On some days Minho looks dead on his feet, and  Chan would offer him to come in and rest for a while. A cup of tea, coffee sometimes over light conversation about their day, even if Chan doesn’t drink coffee all that much.

Then Minho starts bringing back dinner from the restaurant he’s working at.  _ We don’t reheat,  _ he had said,  _ so they just let us bring home the excess portions Changbin made for the day.  _ If there’s anything he get from Minho’s stories is that this person Changbin is the most annoying, loud, obnoxious cinnamon roll with a golden heart that ever walk the surface of the earth (Chan would beg to differ as Minho hasn’t met Hyunjin yet, their new P.E teacher who’s loud and obnoxious when he needs to be, especially when facing disrespectful misbehaving students, but is actually a cinnamon roll sweetheart when he gets to know the young teacher personally). Changbin also happens to be the cook, and apparently a very talented cook because the seafood chowder they’re having right now tastes  _ heavenly _ . 

They’d have dinner on Chan’s couch,  the tv serving them comfortable white noise as they talk. On days when he’s completely drained, Minho would fall asleep right there where he’s seated, with Soonie or Doongie curling peacefully on his lap. 

Sometimes, not often, Minho would fall asleep with his side pressed close against Chan, his head falling on Chan’s shoulder and even though it’s slowly becoming uncomfortable what with his arm trapped in an unnatural angle, Chan finds himself staying still, eyes fixating on the tv screen as Minho’s soft puffs of breaths falls gently against the side of his neck.

  
  


~

  
_ Hyung, are the boys with you?  _

Chan opens his phone and sees the text message from Minho. He’s in the middle of deciding between two oversized sweater he’s planning to wear for his date tonight. 

_ Yep, they’re on the couch. I think they just came in,   _

he texts back, finally choosing the grey knitted sweater dotted with tiny white stars and pulls it on over his black button down.  He’s wearing black slacks rather than jeans, his mother told him his date comes from a rather conservative family, so be neat, presentable,  _ none of those piercings and ripped jeans do you hear me Christopher Bang? _

Blame it on him being a libra, but he wants people to like him, at least give them a good first impression.  So Chan complies, after all the piercings and ripped jeans was for when he was feeling rebellious, dangerous.

He’s not feeling anything remotely close at the moment, has not been feeling like anything at all actually for the last years. And the person staring back at him in the mirror looks the part, neatly parted hair, sweater and shirt getups, pressed pants and dress shoes. He reminds himself of his father honestly, which is cool if not for the fact that his father is well into his fifties while Chan is just twenty six. 

How did he get here? What has he been doing with his life? Suppose he’s doing okay, he’s quite happy with where he is right now, but should he? feel happy? has he unknowingly fallen into a state of complacency? should he try to strive for more like what his mother always pushes him to? but isn’t the point in life is to pursuit happiness? and if he’s already  _ quite happy _ , what would that mean? Bang Chan blinks at his own reflection and groans. This is  _ not  _ the time to be having an existential crisis. 

The doorbell rings and Chan is grateful for the distraction. 

“Sorry to bother you like this hyung, but Soonie got an ear infection and he needs an ear drop every eight hours but when i try to give it to him the little shit ran out the fire escape on me, i figured he’d hide out here cos he’s a little shit and you spoiled him too much.” 

Chan steps back to let Minho in as soon as he opens the door, beelining the younger into his living room as Minho spills out his frustration. Minho doesn’t really mean anything he said, Chan knows this by now. Also, Minho spoils them far worse than Chan could ever. 

Well, maybe the ear infection part, Minho probably meant that one, but the part about Soonie being a little shit is definitely--wait, Minho probably meant that too. 

The thing is, Soonie (aka his Babygirl that turns out to be not a girl at all, but still his Babygirl no matter what his gender is because the name just stuck, what can he do, he didn’t make the rules here) is quite the character. Soonie does whatever Soonie wants. Unlike Doongie, who trots happily to greet Minho whenever he shows up after work, Soonie sometimes, most of the times, just ignores him cold.  The evidence is visible and clear when Soonie lurches from where he’s been sitting on Chan’s couch to find his usual safe spot under Chan’s book shelf at the sight of Minho coming closer to him with an ear drop.

“Soonie… Soonie-yaahh... please come out.. hyung is here with your meds.” Minho coos. 

When there’s no reaction from Soonie, Minho gets down on his elbows and knees, lowering his head so he can peer to where the cat is hiding. 

It’s all very funny if anyone would ask Chan. He actually has the start of a smile on the corner of his lips at how hilarious everything is, but then in his effort to reach for Soonie, Minho lowers his upper body even more, which make the fabric of his tee rides up his back generously and suddenly Chan is seeing  _ skin _ , smooth and stretched and  _ lovely _ over toned muscles underneath. The band of Minho’s underwear wraps around his hips snugly before disappearing under the denim he’s wearing. Chan realises after a moment that he is staring, and that he probably should stop, but Minho moves and his back twists a little, and  _ oh _ , Minho has dimples on his lower back. This brand new information short circuited half of Chan’s brain while the other half has not stop nagging him to really. stop. staring.  _ now _ . Minho reaches under the shelf with one arm, his tee gets tugged further down and--Chan averts his eyes to the potted succulent on his windowsill and stubbornly keeps his gaze there. He should probably water that, yeah he should, that’s a really good idea.

“Aaahh.. this is hard.” Minho utters to himself, pulling to sit back up. “Soonie-yaah, hyung is too tired to play like this tonight.” He runs his fingers to push his hair back and for the first time Chan notices that Minho does look tired. 

Guilt and shame washes over Chan in an instant because  _ how could he _ \--how could he stand here and looked at Minho the way he did when the younger man is clearly a step away from collapsing and could really use some help. Chan clears his throat, moves to sits on the carpet and calls Soonie out the way he usually do. 

“Babygirl come on out, yeah? Come on, where’s my Baby? there he is...there’s daddy’s Babygirl..” It’s Chan’s turn cooing at the cat, but this time, the orange tabby actually walks out and climbs into his lap, settling there comfortably, much to Minho’s amazement.

“I can’t fucking believe this.” Minho mutters in awe.

He helps Minho with the ear drop, holding Soonie in his arm so he won’t be nervous when Minho gives him the drops. It was over in a matter of minutes , and Minho still looks at him like he discovers the sun. At least until Minho finally realises what he’s wearing. In which he asks,

“What are you wearing? Is… there a funeral? did somebody died?” He asks earnestly.

“What? No, there’s no-- I have a dinner date.” Chan laughs, standing up and patting his pants to try get rid some of Soonie’s fur. A couple still sticks stubbornly and Chan gives up.

“With your grandparents?” Minho asks again. 

“No, what? of course not. My date is twenty four, graduated from SNU, and is currently working as a legal advisor.” Chan tells him, heading back into his room because he just remembers he hasn’t put on his perfume. 

Minho is following him for some reason unknown to him. He is letting Minho follow him into his room for some reason unknown to him.

“What’s that, she graduated from SNU twenty four years ago?” Minho sits on his bed, pulling his legs up and reaching for Chan’s pillow to hug on his lap like it’s a habit he’s been doing all his life. It’s not, this is the first time Chan lets him into his bedroom.  This level of sudden familiarity should bother him, but it doesn’t. Not at all. 

“Har har. “ Chan replies as he picks up one of the perfume bottle on his vanity. 

“That smells nice.” Minho comments.

“Thank you. Finally, something that pleases the audience.” 

“The audience is not pleased with the fashion choice tho.” Minho cocks his head. Chan opens his mouth to argue because really now? but Minho beats him to it. “Have you two been dating that long? I mean if you’re dressing up like that on your date night maybe you should already ask her to marry you ? that, or you’re trying to sue someone and she’s helping you with the legal part.” 

“I’ll sue  _ you _ for misconduct.” Chan replies lightly and this, to Chan’s surprise, gets Minho laughing. 

And it’s nice. It really is, to hear Minho’s laughter bouncing on his walls. Because as of now Chan knows Minho enough to know that he means it when he laughs like that, all high pitched shrill, melodious and carefree. 

“This is actually our first date.” Chan says as he sprays some perfume on his sweater as a passing thought. 

“And you’re wearing that?” Minho practically shrieks from where he really did collapsed, on his side, his head on Chan’s bed while keeping his body somewhat half seated. The position is weird, but at this point Chan has grown accustomed to Minho’s… unconventional ways.

“Hey, excuse you,” Chan answers around a laugh that’s threatening to burst . “I think i look nice.”

“Hyung, don’t get me wrong. I think you, yourself, look very nice.” Minho gives him a look, sitting up straight and fluffing the pillow in his lap before hugging it again. “But why bother looking nice when you can look hot?” 

“Look hot?” Chan is chuckling now, “What, Minho… ”

“Chan hyung, because you’ve helped me with Soonie, and because you’re so nice all the time, out of the kindness of my heart, i’m going to do you a favor, ” Minho says, closing his eyes and giving Chan the most delicate nod he's ever seen. But when Minho opens his eyes though, Chan can’t help but see the mischief swirling behind his dark pupils, no matter how demure he looks right now.

“What are you doing?” Chan laughs, nervously this time when Minho practically jumps. And suddenly he’s in front of Chan, crowding close into his personal space as his fingers are quick to tug Chan’s sweater up.

“C’mon. C’mon, off with this. Off off. “ Minho says impatiently as he pulls the sweater over Chan’s head and discards it onto the direction of the bed. 

The next thing Minho is tugging Chan’s shirt out, pulling it up from where it’s tucked neatly inside his pants, Minho’s fingertips are cold whenever it accidentally brushes against the bare skin of Chan’s belly. It makes Chan shiver, and he feels it right to his spine, which he covers with another nervous laugh, “Minho what are you doing?” 

Chan holds both of Minho’s wrist to stop him, his breath hitching from laughing, and also from the tingling sensation lingering everywhere Minho’s fingers had come in contact with his skin.

“Aww hyung, haven’t you had anyone stripping you down before?”

It’s the way Minho said it, teasingly,  _ sweetly _ , layered with honey,  his mouth moving in the most mesmerising way as he speaks, the deep curve of his philtrum to the fullness of his lips, until Chan looks at his eyes and there, he sees it, that mischief again. 

For all their comfortable conversations so far, with Minho treating Chan like they’ve known each other for years, it still doesn’t change the fact that they doesn’t. That Minho is still somebody Chan had just met two weeks before, no matter how fast they come to be close. 

“And what does this have to do with helping me?” Chan asks, voice a bit stern now. 

Minho catches on, a witty person like him would, of course. He pulls his hands back and smiles to Chan, that saccharine sweet smile that seems innocent, until Minho opens his mouth that is.

“Chan hyung, when was the last time you got laid?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” was Chan’s immediate answer. He’s grateful that his voice doesn’t shake and sputter from the surprise of having been asked such a blunt and direct question one after another.

Minho opens his mouth and closes it again, choosing his words carefully this time. “Let me help you dress up so your date can end in a happy ending , is that okay?”

Chan doesn’t get what Minho is talking about. So far all his dates ended with a happy ending, a friendly note somewhat, except for that one time when he was feeling sick but he forced himself to go and ended up barfing his dinner on his date that night. Yeah , he never heard from her again but Chan thinks he can understand.  

However, Chan suspects Minho is talking about a different kind of  _ happy ending _ . Minho is still smiling up to him, waiting for his answer. It might be a good chance to know the younger better, so yeah why not, Chan thinks.

Minho takes Chan’s silence as an approving sign, hitting Chan’s hand when he tries to reach for the sweater again, discarded on the bed. 

“But it’ll be colddd… ” Chan whines. “And it has these tiny little speckled stars.”

Minho looks at him unamused, the tone of voice he’s using surprisingly light though, “No tiny speckled stars on a first date, don’t show them you’re a softie just yet. Do you have a leather jacket?”

“What?” Chan starts to giggle, because Minho is being ridiculous. He’s not a softie. “I’m not a softie.”

“Of course you’re not, hyung” He gives Chan a placating smile. “You’re not a softie and i like kissing girls. Now, leather jacket?”

“You like--Uh… what? no i don’t have a leather jacket.” Chan answers distractedly, Doongie just enters his room and starts scratching the foot of his bed. Minho picks him up and coos.

“Well Minho has one, doesn't he Doongie? Let’s go get it Doongie-yah, let’s get it for Chan hyung.” With Doongie in his arms, Minho makes a move to exit the room but Chan stops him, because by now his head finally processed what Minho was implying.

“Minho i’m not wearing a leather jacket on a first date, i don’t want to give her the impression that i’m that kind of guy.”

“What guy, hyung?” Minho kisses Doongie’s paw, lets the cat pat his cheek with his other one.

“A leather jacket kind of guy..” Chan shrugs.

“What does that even mean?”

“You know, guys that wear leather jackets on a first date.” When Minho just stares at him blankly, Chan continues, “It’d make me feel like i’m dating her to get into her bed, that kind of guy.”

“And you’re... not?”

“Not what?” 

“Getting into her bed?”

“Of course not.” Chan answers, appalled.

“Why not?” Minho asks, looking even more confused.

“Because i want to like her, Minho. I want to … i don’t know, hold her hand and listen to her stories, enjoy our date together and see her again if things went well. Those kind of things…  i want to--”

“You want to fall in love.” Minho says slowly,  face breaking into a smile before he turns to Doongie and tells him ,  _ Doongie-yah Chan hyung is just too cute, isn’t he? _

 

_ ~ _

  
  


It was an hour before midnight when Chan walks his date home. The date went well, dinner was nice and conversation flows easily. She was the oldest child and so she felt pressured to do well in everything she does. Chan can relate to that, and he tells her so. 

The invitation to stay for a drink was surprising, to the least. This is their first date after all. Chan is not too naive to understand how one thing could lead to another given the right situations, an intimate conversation could easily be an intimate something else entirely at the end of the night. So he declines politely, bowing to her and lets her know that he had a great time. She looks disappointed but perks up visibly at the mention of a second date. 

When she closes the door, the large glass catches Chan’s reflection back to him. Minho had insisted Chan go for a black tailored blazer he own after he swears off the leather jacket offer. He also undo not one, not two, but three of the first buttons on Chan’s shirt, exposing the column of his neck down to the start of his collarbones and lower until the chain link necklace Chan wears under his shirts is shown, and baring half of his chest along with it. He styled Chan’s hair, ruffling it up then combing it with his fingers; the result looks half wet, messy but the stylish kind. And then he helped applying perfume, spritzing them directly on Chan’s skin, Minho’s thumb rubbing gently behind his ears and on his wrists. Chan can still remember the proud smile on Minho’s face when he give Chan a last once over before ushering him out the door.

Suppose Minho was right, Chan laughs to himself as he walks to the bus stop, he could’ve gotten Minho’s kind of happy ending if he played his cards right. He knows he look… hot. Minho's words, not his. But ten steps onto the sidewalk it’s not his date’s stories nor his date’s smile that lingers in his head. It’s Minho’s, s weet and amused, with just a hint of teasing hiding in the curl of his lips as he asks Chan that  _ if Soonie is your babygirl, and you’re his daddy, would that mean i get to call hyung daddy too? I am Soonie’s sibling after all.  _ Chan had blushed furiously, and Minho was kind enough to not press further, only laughing that high pitched laughter of his.

 

“Aahhh it's cold.” Chan whines loudly to noone in particular when a wind gushes past him.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

Chan stares at his phone screen. What if Minho is asleep? 

He has been tossing and turning in his bed waiting for sleep that won’t come, and the next thing he knows he has three servings of chicken in his hands which, speaking from experience, he could eat alone. But chicken and beer tastes better with company, and he can’t really wake any of his friends this late at night. Well he  _ can,  _ but he’s a responsible adult who understands that his friends value their much needed rest. The fact that Chan feel he can just call Minho to get him up instead is a mystery. It’s not like Minho doesn’t need his sleep like the next person but, maybe it’s because Chan feels the need to tell the younger about how the date went after all the effort Minho gave into dressing him up.

They haven’t met since that night and that was three days ago and even though Minho has his number, he didn't contact Chan to ask about the date. He hasn’t dropped by Chan’s flat to pick up Soonie and Doongie either. Although honestly speaking, Minho doesn’t really have to, because both Chan and Minho keep their windows open almost all hours now.

Chan suspects Minho was probably too tired to meet another human being after his horrendous long shifts ended. Chan done some service work during his university days, even if it was just manning up the 24/7 convenience store near campus. It was brief but enough to make him understand that feeling of just wanting a quiet time for himself after having long hours of putting on a pleasant face and serve so many people.

Chan thought about texting Minho, but it feels really weird spilling his dating deeds through text messages to a new acquaintance--acquaintance? is Minho an acquaintance? or is he a friend? The way they talk to each other, the way Minho warm up to him, the way  _ he  _ warms up to Minho, tells Chan that Minho is a friend,  _ a close friend.  _ But then does he really know Minho? apart from their friendly talk and tease, Chan realises he doesn't really know all that much about the younger.

He does know, though, that Minho is usually awake during these hours. When Chan is reviewing his teaching materials or grading assignments, he’d hear those noises again, the scuffing and squeaking of Minho moving around his flat doing god knows what. 

So Chan finally lifts his phone, and calls Minho. Minho answers after the third dialing tone.

“Minho , are you up?” Chan enters his building, sighing when he sees the  _ out of service  _ sign in front of their elevator. 

_ “I am now, what is it..” _ Chan hears Minho’s mumbling voice,  _ shit _ , he sounds sleepy as hell. 

“Ah i thought you were awake. I just uhhh… ” Coming down was a breeze but the thought of climbing four stories up makes him groan into his phone.

“ _ Mhmm _ ?” Minho hums in response, and from the sound of it Chan guesses Minho probably still have his eyes closed even as he takes the call. Chan done a lot of that too whenever someone was calling him while he’s half asleep. Maybe this is not a good idea after all, Chan falters.

“You know what, nevermind. I should probably let you rest. Sorry for waking you up, Minho. Go back to sleep?” 

Chan huffs as he begin to climb up again. It’s not really a problem, he’s fit enough to make the climb, he did so already so many times. But this is midnight and Chan just want to eat his chicken, drink his beer and then find a horizontal surface to lie upon and, hopefully fall asleep. 

He can hear Minho yawning,  _ “Well i’m up already so might as well …  no… wait, … don't tell me. fuckkk, don’t tell me.” _ Suddenly Minho sounds more awake than ever. _ “Where are you?” _

Chan can hear from the sound of fabric rustling and the groaning that Minho is indeed waking up, and knocking over things apparently from the clangs and the thuds and the curses leaving Minho’s mouth in rapid-fire speed , “I’m actually at--, are you okay? Minho?”  

_ “Yeah, yeah, m’fine. S’all great.” _ Minho heaves into the phone,  _ “Just send me your location and i’ll be right there, hyung. Anything else you need?”  _

Need? why would he need anything? what is Minho on about? Chan pulls the phone away from his ear and looks at it confusedly, he presses it back against his ear gingerly and answers, “Uh...no?” 

_ “Okay do you have any preference? any favorites?”   _ There’s a slight echo in his voice and Chan figures Minho must’ve put him on speaker, the sound of water splashing in the background tells Chan he’s in the bathroom.

_ What?  _ Chan thinks. “What?” he asks Minho, “What favorite?”

_ “What kind do you like the most? flavored? ultra thin? textured?” _ Minho elaborates, a little less patience in his voice now.

Chan can feel his face warming up because he thinks he knows what Minho is referring to.  _ “ _ Wait, no, you don't need to--Minho i’m not--” Heaving, Chan pushes the door opening up to the fourth floor corridor, his feet taking him to Woojin’s flat by memory.

_ “Calm down, hyung. I’ll get it to you. No need to be shy about it, that’s what friends are for. I’m gonna stop by the convenience store and grab a couple for you, so you can choose. You sure you don’t need anything? Beer? Snacks? Lubricants?” _

Chan scrunches his nose, Minho has always been blunt and it doesn’t help that he himself gets so dense sometimes. “I get that you’re trying to help me, but really there’s no need, Minho.” He almost laughs into the phone at how ridiculous this all becoming.

_ “Don’t mention it, they have midnight sale on the bread, i’ll get you some of that too incase you get hungry afterwards,“ _ Minho cuts over him,“ Chan watches as the door handle rattles from inside before it swings open _ “--i’ll be over in a minute, just tell me where you a--aaaahhhhhh!!!!” _

“Uh...hi?” Chan lowers the phone in his hand to smile at Minho, sitting on the floor where he fallen back on his ass out of the pure shock of opening his door and finding Chan standing there.

 

 

It’s a little over a month since Minho moved in. They’ve known each other about half of that, but this is the first time Chan ever actually goes in to Minho’s flat. He’s been there countless of times when it was Woojin’s, so much that he knows where everything is like the back of his hand. But this time he’s going there when the flat is Minho’s.

Walking inside Chan finally understands why Soonie and Doongie prefers his place to laze around pretending they’re loaf the entire day. 

“Keep your shoes on, the floor is cold.” Minho tells him. Chan knows, the heating sucks in this building, much like the soundproofing, that’s why he had carpets installed when he moved in. Woojin had helped him then, that old trusty friend of his. 

Apart from the nonexistent carpet, Minho’s apartment basically has… non existent  _ everything _ . His living room is empty save for the boxes still stacked against the wall, there’s no couch no table no pictures hanging on the wall no nothing whatsoever but a wide open space, which in itself is uh… not that wide. The pricing here is cheap for a reason. 

Walking across the room Chan finally gets where the scuffing and squeaking sound comes from, but still, their footsteps are not as hectic nor as rhythmic as the ones he hears at night, the ones he finds himself falling asleep into. Just what the hell was Minho doing in all those nights, doing laps in his living room maybe? Chan can’t help but wonder.

The kitchen has appliances, Chan can recognise Woojin’s old stove and everything as Minho leads him into the bedroom. A logical choice, considering the circumstances, where else would they sit when Minho doesn’t own a decent seating furniture of any kind in this flat. 

“Sorry about the arrangement, my furnitures are still in a friend’s place and he’s still touring,” Minho pauses to climb on the bed, which in reality is just a mattress placed on the floor. There’s no wardrobe, no closet, no armoire in his room. There’s a couple of bundles stacked up neatly in the corner, five of them, right next to a laundry hamper. At least Minho has clean blankets and pillows.“ and honestly i haven’t found the time nor the energy to get them moved in here.” 

He collapses against the mattress after that, eyes closing that Chan half thought he’s going back to sleep until, “Come here..” Minho pats the empty spot beside him on the bed, his eyes still closed. 

Chan toes his shoes off and does just that.

 

“I can’t believe you went home before midnight on your date. I knocked on your door the next morning when i was going for a run and you didn’t answer so i thought you were sleeping somewhere else, “ Minho wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at him before biting into the chicken in his hand. 

Chan has told Minho everything about his previous date, right to the part where he was  _ cold  _ when waiting for a bus to take him home because Minho won’t let him wear his warm and comfy sweater. Minho had snorted aloud at this, of course he would. Chan doesn’t tell Minho that the teasing Minho did kept his cheeks warm throughout though.

“I can’t believe earlier you thought i called you for uh… delivery.” Chan shakes his head. 

“Delivery?” 

They’ve settled in Minho’s bedroom to eat. The room significantly warmer than the rest of the place.

“For uhh… protection?”

It takes a moment before Minho gets what Chan is talking about, and then he snorts, “You can say it, hyung.  _ Condom _ . It’s an actual word, you know?” Minho looks at him with amusement, and because he’s a dick that won’t let Chan live, he nudges Chan’s arm, “Say it with me now,  _ Connn-dommm _ .”

“Protection is also a word.” Chan retorts, not backing down.

“Protection is when i pay my insurance premiums.” Minho scoffs, going back to eating, “also, _thank you, Minho,_ _for getting up and have hyung’s back in time of need, it was very nice of you._ Ah don’t mention it, hyung. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“I wasn’t even on a date, Minho.” Now it’s Chan who scoffs, amused by Minho’s self dialogue.

“Mhmm, and how am i supposed to know that?” Minho hums questioningly, “It’s not like i have hyung’s dating schedule saved in my phone.”

“It’s monday night, who even date on a school night?” Chan laughs, the kind of laughter he knows brings his dimples out.

“Not you apparently.” Minho giggles, he lifts his face and their eyes meets, “but if a friend is calling me at fuck a.m it’s either they’re wasted somewhere for whatever reason and needed a lift home, or they hooked up and didn’t come prepared, no puns intended. I don't take you for the wasted kind, so it must’ve been the other option.” 

“I called cos i got you chicken, Lee Minho.” Chan throws him a look.

“Well i guess you aren’t like any other friend i have, Christopher Bang.” Minho throws him a look back and the stern facade Chan had earlier breaks, making way for a grin, “You are worse,  you show up at my door at one a.m bringing more calories i could handle and successfully fuck my diet all the way to next week.” 

“You’re on a diet?” The thought of Minho putting himself through a diet is baffling. He’s perfect already. “I don’t think you need a diet?” 

“Why thank you, i think i look fabulous too.” Minho says, sending Chan a playful wink. Only that playful winks aren’t supposed to make his cheeks warm like this, but maybe it’s just the beer taking effect, even though he only had a few sip of it.

“Your friends seems fun.” Chan comments just for the sake of changing the topic.

“Oh believe me, they are. Too much at times it seems. I’m losing sleep because of them i swear to god. ”

Minho discards the leftover bones and grabs a can of beer with his clean hand. Chan reaches and holds it midair to crack it open it for him.

“I don’t sleep much.” Chan wipes his hand on a napkin, “but when i do sleep i’m pretty much dead to the world.” Chan confesses. 

“Well, you missed the chance to be dead to the world beside a warm body that night, that’s all i’m saying.” 

“I don’t know . I just didn’t feel like it. I don’t like rushing into things. I don’t even kiss on first dates.” Chan shrugs.

Minho tilts his head aside, eyeing Chan for a moment, the hint of a smile on his lips, “Why doesn’t that surprise me. Hyung’s the gentlemen type huh?“ 

“I don’t sleep with anyone i’m not in love with.” Chan continues, when he lift his head Minho’s smile has grown into a lopsided smirk on his face. “Not that anything is wrong with people who… who choose to do so, i mean people have their options and their own reasons obviously to do the things that… that  they do, and it’s fine of course, it’s just… that i don’t. It’s… who i am, i guess. It’s just ..me, “ Chan chuckles.

He’s rambling he knows, and he didn’t mean to open up this much of himself in one go, god what if Minho think he’s a self absorbed person who just talk endlessly about himself. But Minho's eyes are soft on him, fond almost? Chan hasn’t known Minho all that much to be sure. He brushed it aside to focus on other things. 

Things like the yangnyeom sauce coating over Minho’s fingers, yangnyeom sauce on Minho’s lips that glistens, this oily reddish orange that funnily reminds Chan of the lipgloss one of his date used to wear.

Hers was the taste of raspberry, Chan remembers the flavor when he kissed her, a bit artificial sweet on the after taste. Looking at Minho's lips right now, Chan is certain it won’t taste anything like raspberry. Minho probably tastes very savory, slick, spiced up with a hint of chilli. 

Suddenly his hand reaches forward, "You got a bit of-- uh… ," and then the pad of Chan’s thumb drags gently against Minho's upper lip to wipe the excess seasoning there, following the way Minho’s lip curves up and then glide down to end in a soft curl.

The reddish sauce is collected on his thumb that Chan absentmindedly brings to his own mouth to taste. He's half right, it does taste savory and spicy, but also sweet and a bit tangy. It’s delicious. Chan licks his lips before wiping with a napkin after.

“So, do  _ you _ kiss on first dates?” Chan asks Minho, deciding that it’s enough talk about him at this point. “Genuine question, i’m not judging or anything, i’m just.. curious?” he laughs.

“I--... “ Minho breathes before he just gapes at it, lost for words, looking at Chan like he’s trying to solve a puzzle, like the answer is somehow written on Chan’s face. It’s not, Chan raises an eyebrow up when Minho stays silent. 

The moment passes after Minho blinks a couple of times to regain himself, and then the look is gone, cleverly layered under the start of a sly smile. “Oh.. do i kiss on a first date, that is the question indeed.”

“Is that a yes or a no?” Chan asks, his own smile spreading now.

Casting one last glance to Chan, Minho takes another sip from his drink, tilting his head slightly like he’s considering his answer, “First dates are all i ever do. Well, basically, if those are even counted as dates, i’m not really into the wine and dine stuff. I’m more of the tequila and dance kind, you know? I think the right term nowadays would be hookups? one night stand? hit and bang? something like that. So do i kiss on a first date? Hell yeah i do, that, and then some more.” he says unapologetically. 

Chan never understands how complete strangers could just fall into bed together without even knowing each other. He didn't realise he was saying this out loud.

“If you strip everything down,” Minho swings the chicken in his hand, “It's just fulfilling a need. It's that simple, really. And if both party feels it’s good enough, then why not.” he bites into his chicken. 

Minho looks so delicate when speaking, his voice soft, his tone pleasant. The way Minho bats his eyelashes and the way his lips moves, there’s a certain beauty to it, something close to demure, innocent almost.  It's only when one actually listens to the things coming out of that pretty mouth of his to realise he's nothing sort of.

The thought came so abrupt, one second Chan was staring at Minho in his ratty tshirt and sweatpants sitting on the mattress practically inhaling his portion of chicken, and the next second suddenly his mind wonders about how Minho would look like chasing his release. Would he be loud? with groans and grunts, or would he be the quiet type, gasping breathlessly against the bedsheets. He's so pretty, it must be such a sight to behold. Minho with his hair plastered to his forehead, damp from exertion, face flushing beautifully. His skin warm, maybe even burning to touch, feverish with desire. This is where the sane part of Chan’s brain catches up and he almost sputters in shame over the indecent images filling his head. He chokes on his chicken instead, fleetingly thinking if he dies now, he’d probably end up in hell.

“Hyung you okay?” Minho pats Chan’s back to comfort him, giving him a bottle of mineral water to down the offending piece of chicken.   
  
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Chan tells Minho, convincing him that he is indeed okay.

“Do you need anything?” Minho asks him, still looking slightly worried.

_ Yeah, holy water _ . Chan thinks. “No, i’m fine. I’m good.”

Later that night, after they finished eating and talking some more, after Minho tugs on Chan’s shirt to hold him back, stop him from going to his own flat and to _just_ _sleep here, hyung, it’s almost 4 am, the bed is big enough for both of us , i won’t hog the blanket i swear,_ while he shifts to his own side, making himself smaller to give Chan more room; after Chan had refused him with a smile because _didn’t i told you earlier i don’t get into bed on the first date,_ in which Minho had laughed in sleepy amusement, that wonderful shrill Chan becoming familiar with, softened at the edges by sleep; after he’s curled on his own bed, falling asleep with Minho’s sleepy smile lingering behind his closed eyelids, Minho’s laugh ringing in his ears, Chan wonders if he’s really truly okay. 

 

  
~

  
  


_ I don’t think it’s that hard to understand, Chan. Not everyone lives in the middle ages like you.  _

Chan stares at Woojin’s text message. The network connection is too unstable from Woojin’s side to have a proper phone call, let alone a video call. But Woojin text him every now and then if just to ask Chan about his day. 

_ i know that, i wonder why though. What’s his reason for doing it. He doesn’t seem like the type, you know. _ Chan ignores the the slight jab on Woojin’s text and hits send. The reply was quick.

_ I could name ten reasons right now why i would maybe possibly do it, but none of them would be his reason, they would be mine. So why don’t you ask him about this yourself? _

Chan stares at his phone, across his lunch table Hyunjin is sharing pictures of his dog, Kkami to their art teacher, Seungmin, who coos and complements the little pup. Chan can relate, he’s seen Kkami’s picture, that puppy is hands down adorable. Hyunjin’s phone practically exist to take the puppy’s pictures. 

_ I don’t know if i’m close enough as a friend to ask him personal questions.  _ Chan type in his reply.

_ Please, this person got out of the comfort of his bed at 1 am for you, was ready to go wherever you are so you can nut safely. I think you can ask him personal questions. If it were me, i would’ve hang up and went back to sleep.  _

_ You would.  _ Chan replies,  _ You’re mean like that.  _

_ I am,  _ comes Woojin’s answer and Chan smiles. 

_ I don’t know. It’s not even that important to know. I guess i’m just curious, that’s all _ . Chan replies, ready to end their chat when he sees Woojin is typing,

_ He seems like a decent guy when i met him.  _ Woojin’s reply reads. 

_ He is. He’s great actually. Didn’t come down the fire escape every five minutes to borrow my sugar, salt, duct tape, or ransack my fridge or hog my couch binging House hunter international. _

_ Awww, i miss you too, Bang Chan.  _ Woojin’s reply reads and Chan laughs out loud, earning a surprised look from Hyunjin and Seungmin which he waves off. 

_ Why did you even need so much duct tape for? _ Chan replies him.

_ Can i ask you a question?  _ Woojin messages back.

_ You can ask me for my last ramen stash and i will give it to you of course you can ask me a question you know you can. _

_ That’s very touching Chan except for the fact that it was you taking my last stash of ramen. Anyway, this Minho, i’ve met him and he’s good looking, not as good looking as me obviously but still a looker. So... _

Chan was about to laugh until he reads the entirety of Woojin’s text, 

_ So do you find him attractive? _

Chan’s thumbs pauses mid air as he processes Woojin’s question. 

_ I don’t know.  _  He types quickly and presses send. And after a moment of pausing, as Seungmin agrees to come visit Hyunjin’s place to meet this adorable Kkami, Chan types again. 

_ I do.  _

_ I think i do.  _

_ Yeah.  _

Chan stares at his replies, sees the ‘typing’ notif with Woojin’s icon on the side. It feels like forever and Chan doesn't know why he’s so nervous about Woojin’s reaction, 

_ Okay.  _

_ That’s cool.  _

_ I thought he was your type when i met him.  _

Chan’s eyebrow quirks up at Woojin’s reply. 

_ What do you mean he’s my type? What is my type? I have a type?   _ Chan’s thumb quickly produces a reply, but after rereading it he’s also quickly to delete it.  _ Okay _ . He types again, but what does okay mean? What would Woojin thinks of Chan’s okay? so he deletes that too. 

In the end he left Woojin on read, he has a good reason, the lunch break is over anyway. He’ll reply later at home, or when he has the chance, when he’s ready obviously. For now Chan pushes it off his mind, it’s not the first time they left each other on read, has been friends long enough to not take it personally. So he closes the texting app and follows Hyunjin to wash his hands. 

 

~

  
  


Chan doesn’t know how he ended up here, sitting in a table for two, candle lights and roses and a glass of wine in his hand while his date chatters about her life pleasantly.

He’s not in a fancy restaurant because he’s pretty sure the white table cloth they’re using is what his mum sent him along with other things she packed him when he moved into the flat, like the dining set currently in front of him, arranged neatly with such attention to details making the utensils look exquisite despite the fact he clearly remembers mixing gochujang into his bibimbap with them a week earlier. Also, he can kind of see his kitchen from where he’s sitting, and he’s certain those horrendous looking backsplash are also his. 

Their waiter shows up from his kitchen in a formal waitering outfit, white shirt and grey buttoned vest, paired with a dark grey pants. A black knee length apron is  wrapped neatly around his hips, a plate of food in both of his hands. He sets them on the table with perfect posture, all the professional waitering hours he must’ve spent reflected on the way he serves Chan and his date. He greets them with a formal smile, introducing their appetizer before politely excusing himself.

“Oh wow. I’m impressed, it looks really good.” His date comments about their food when the waiter disappears into the kitchen. “What was your friend’s name again? Minwoo?”

“Minho.” Chan corrects her.

And oh yeah, Chan remembers exactly why he ended up here, having a dinner date in his own flat with Minho playing waiter slash cook for them. 

“Are you trying to burn the building down?” Minho had coughed, steering Chan away from the smoky pan now covered with a damp rag along with whatever dish Chan was trying to cook.  _ Lamb,  _ he was trying to cook lamb. Trying and failing superbly. 

This is how Minho ended up cooking for him. First, because it’s for everyone’s best interest to have their building not burned to the ground, Minho said. And second, because according to Minho, he had pestered Changbin enough to know how to make a dish or two. 

Chan thinks Minho is being too overly dramatic, but he complies when the younger ushered him to his room to get ready and go pick up his date for the musical they're going to watch before dinner while he, in Minho’s own words, will take care of everything. 

By everything Chan doesn’t realise it means setting up a really elegant dinner table for them (Chan was thinking along the lines of rustic homey style when he invited his date for a homemade dinner, with checkered tablecloth and simple cooking and he came home to a white tablecloth candle lit arrangement with a five course meal.) 

The date itself went pretty nicely. The musical they watched was good, funny, the performance praise worthy. This time his date is a nursing student and Chan tries hard to focus on her during dinner, to concentrate in the words coming out of her mouth so he can give the appropriate response expected of him.

It’s not that she’s uninteresting, she’s a petite girl with a lovely heart shaped face, a cute bob hairstyle that bounces when she giggles . She’s soft spoken, very pretty and is nice to talk to, but somehow Chan keeps finding himself drifting his sight towards the kitchen instead, trying to catch a glimpse or two of his cook/waiter/friend when he bends down to look at the stove, or when he’s checking something that's brewing in Chan’s crockery pot, at least until the said friend catches him staring. 

He smiles at Chan, seemingly amused, but kept his face neutral when he’s serving them through the entire meal. Chan had stopped trying to catch a glimpse now, because as if he senses Chan’s eyes searching for him, Minho appears oftenly where Chan can see him. And Chan definitely sees him, because even as he’s walking his date to the bus stop to get her catch a ride home, the thought lingering in his head was how good Minho had looked in his outfit. The way he’s not too lanky nor too buff for his crisp white shirt, the way the apron draped around his narrow hips nicely. It’s definitely a sight to behold.

Chan later finds that all the dishes were done when he got back to his flat, leftovers packed into containers and labeled accordingly before stacked inside his refrigerator. Minho had also cleaned up the table, folding the white cloth and placing it on Chan’s laundry hamper. When he said he’d take care of everything, Minho really means it. Chan can’t fight the gratitude and warm feeling that washes over him, because Minho didn’t have to do anything for him, but he did, and he goes above and beyond that. 

Minho is sleeping on his couch, still in his waitering attire, but the vest is gone, slung on the backrest of the couch, the two upper button of his shirt undone, with sleeves rolled to his elbows. By the look of it, Minho didn’t intend on falling asleep. There’s a remote in his hand while the tv plays a rerun of an afternoon drama, left in a low volume. Soonie curling peacefully on his lap. The sight of it makes Chan’s heart swells, each beat pressing gently against his rib cage because Minho, sleeping with his hair disheveled and mouth slightly parting, looks like he belongs right here in Chan’s home. 

“Hey, you’ll hurt your neck that way.” Chan hushes as he fixes Minho’s sleeping position.

“Mmhhm?... “ Minho hums sleepily, stirring awake, “Oh, hyung, you’re home already? Sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep here, i was just resting for a bit and--” he moves like he’s going to leave the couch but Chan pulls him back, pulls Minho closer to him as he resettles their position. 

“Thankyou.” Chan whispers against Minho’s shoulder, he has his arms around Minho now, keeping the younger pressed against his chest. 

“Don’t mention it. Just buy me lunch sometimes or something,” Minho tells him dismissively, patting Chan’s arm gently as he says so, “Now let me go so we both can rest?” 

There’s that teasing lilt in Minho’s voice, even as it comes out mumbled and sleepy. Chan doesn’t want to let him go, feels thoroughly content with having Minho in his arms like now. 

“Don’t want you to go yet.” He shakes his head even though Minho can’t see him, his own voice heavy sounding tired in his ears. “Can we stay like this for a little longer?” 

There’s a beat and Minho tenses up in his arms, but before a rejection comes Chan follows up with a “Please, just a little while?” while tightening his hold around Minho’s middle and resting his forehead against the back of Minho’s head, burying his nose into the younger’s hair. Everything feels really comfortable right now, Chan doesn’t want to budge.

“Yeah.” Minho says after a pause, “Yeah, we can do that.” and then Chan  _ feels _ the way Minho just melts into him with a long exhale, as if he’s been holding his breath the whole time. 

_ A little while  _ turns into them cuddling on the couch the entire night, Minho with his temple pressed against the crook of Chan’s neck, falling right back asleep, breathing peacefully as Chan counts each intake of breaths before sleep finally comes for him too.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i writing this fic so i can have lots of banginho/minchan cuddling? yes. yes i am.


End file.
